


The Things We Left Behind

by tangerine (arte)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, De-Aged Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, Season/Series 09, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arte/pseuds/tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What have you done to me," growled his attacker, and Dean was taken aback by how young the voice sounded. He blinked several times to get his eyes to work properly, and found himself staring at a pair of blue eyes that was oddly familiar.</p><p>"Cas..?" He whispered, confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set after 9x09, but without the whole mess with Kevin dying. For the sake of the story, let's say that while Gadreel still made Cas leave, he himself left Sam around 9x09 after he finished healing Sam. Further explanation would be provided as the story unfolds. Please enjoy :)

"Cas!"

 _Holy motherfucking Jesus_ , Dean swore as he ran toward the crumbled heap of overcoat. Did the witch vaporize Cas? What did she do? He shot the witch, but if the curse had already killed Cas, it won't do any good. Spell that resulted in death couldn't be reversed. But Cas was an angel, so a mere witch couldn't possibly kill him, right?

Then again, Cas had been so shifty about his grace these days. What did he say, _it's not mine, per se_? What the fuck did that even mean? Shit, he should have asked about it more. He wanted to give some space to Cas, but what did that mean if he was dead?

He remembered the murky water of the reservoir and the bloody coat which was both too much and too little and god, he didn't think he could go through it again. He couldn't live with the tattered piece of a clothes being the only reminder of his best friend.

 _Well, at least the coat is different this time_ , a small voice in the back of his head said and Dean snarled at it to fucking shut up. Cas wasn't dead. He just couldn't.

Then, his heart almost stopped as an arm shot out of the place where Cas's head should be.

"The fuck?" Dean yelled, utterly freaked out. He took one step back by instict, but it wasn't like he could just leave. He swallowed, then started to approach the bundle of clothing again with caution. "Cas? Cas, you in ther-" 

He wasn't able to finish his sentence as a white blur leaped toward him. He tried to shoot but his arm was pushed down by the body of the creature and at the angle he was in, he was more likely to shoot his own foot. He got his finger away from the trigger so as not to create an idiotic mishap, and tried to get his arm free and in the right position. 

Before he could succeed, however, he was slammed into the ground, and a cold, silver blade was pushed right at his throat. 

"What did you do to me," growled the creature, and Dean was taken aback by how young the voice sounded. He blinked several times to get his eyes to work properly, and found himself staring at a pair of blue eyes that was oddly familiar.

"Cas..?" He whispered, confused. 

"Dean!" The panicked shout came, along with heavy thudding which got louder as it came closer. Usually, it was the sound Dean associated with rescue and relief. However, that wasn't the case this time as he felt the grip that pinned him to the ground tightening, and saw the hand that held the blade swerving back. 

Cas was trying to kill him before the reinforcement came.

"Cas, Castiel, Sam, wait!" Dean shouted desperately, not entirely sure what the hell was going on, but determined not to bite the dust and let anynody important get killed before he could comprehend the situation properly. "Please, everybody! Let's not get too hasty, okay? No killing, no killing! We can talk it out, jesus christ!"

He didn't even know what he was blabbering about anymore, but it seemed to have worked. He was evidently still breathing.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked tensely. Dean peered up from the ground and found his brother aiming a gun toward their direction, all tightly coiled muscle.

"I'm- not really sure," Dean croaked. He was finally able to turn his head to assess his attacker properly; round, serious face, messy dark hair, and big blue eyes that were too old to belong to a child. He was pretty sure this was how Cas - or Jimmy Novak, to be more precise - would look like if he was a kid.

"Castiel?" Dean called, silently signaling Sam to hold it and let him handle it first.

"What did you do to me?" Castiel asked back in a flat tone.

"I don't understand," Dean said cautiously. "Could you explain? I really don't know."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Dean bit back a wince as the grip tightened in warning. "I can sense no sigil, yet I'm unable to fly. I don't belong here. What have you done?"

"Okay, first of all, it wasn't me. If you look up, there is a dead witch in the corner. She did something, I don't know what. I killed her, but apparently, the curse lingered."

Castiel checked the corner, verifying Dean's words, then looked down at him again. Dean stared right on, willing the angel to believe him. 

"Do you know what the witch had done?" Castiel continued the interrogation, but seemed to have lowered his guard a little. At least, that was what Dean hoped.

"Not exactly, but I can make a guess based on what happened. Um, your vessel was originally adult-sized, but now it's, well, a kid, and you, seemed to have lost some of your memory."

"And how would you know whether or not I lost my memory?" 

_Because I know you, you idiot,_ Dean wanted to say, but it was obvious that this Cas had no recollection of ever meeting him.

"We've met."

"How?"

The correct answer to that question would be _you rescued me from Hell._ However, Dean suddenly became afraid of how the angel would react to this piece of information. The Cas he knew had never held his trip to downside against him, but what if this one decided to smite him because he thought that Dean should never have gotten out of there in the first place?

"I-," Dean said, fighting back a sick feeling. "I'm Michael's vessel."

Castiel tilted his head and looked into his eyes, a painfully familiar gesture. Deam swallowed hard.

"Of course," Castiel gave a little nod to himself and clambered off to his feet.

Why did that sound like a _I shouldn't have touched my big brother's property_? Dean stood up, feeling nauseous.

"Hey, you okay?" 

Dean started as he heard Sam's concerned voice. Right, Sam, the case, the dead witch. 

God, get a grip, Winchester.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm, I'm fine."

Sam looked anything but convinced. He frowned and opened his mouth, no doubt to hold a mini Ophra show, but got distracted as something caught his eyes.

"Uh, Cas-tiel?" Sam called awkwardly, stumbling on the nickname. So he caught on to the difference in the angel, too, thought Dean.

"Yes?" The angel responded, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"I was just wondering, what're you doing?"

"I'm trying to call one of my brethren. I need their assistance to-"

"No!" Sam and Dean shouted at the same time.

Castiel turned, question in his eyes.

"You can't," Dean said, but didn't know how to finish that sentence. He scrambled for any plausible excuse. 

Meanwhile, his moose of a brother blurted out, "Heaven is closed right now." 

Dean froze for a second, then made an incredulous face at him. _Dude, you can't jusy bomb drop something like that to a kid angel!_ he conveyed with his frantic eyes.

 _What was I supposed to say, then?_ Sam spread his arms a little, looking indignant. _We can't let him call down angels on us. We're all going to get slaughtered!_

Dean wanted to argue some more, but Castiel sharply cut in. "What do you mean?"

The brother looked at each other. Dean signaled with his chin that Sam should be the one to deal with this mess. The moose had the audacity to sigh like he couldn't believe this was his life.

"No one can get in to Heaven right now. Just, please note, calling for angels is an incredibly bad idea right now," Sam went on, eyes earnest. "I know you have no reason to believe us, but we're trying to get Heaven open again. We've actually been working with you, to tell you the truth. So would you please come with us?"

Actually, that was pretty damn smooth, Dean had to admit. Not that he was going to tell this to Sam. That would make him insufferable. 

Dean turned to check the angel's reaction, and found those blue eyes boring in to him. It was disconcertaining, seeing the Cas he knew in this little kid. The double vision made him feel dizzy.

"I-" Castiel said then stopped. He turned his intense gaze to Sam and considered some more. 

"Yes," he agreed at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Getting Castiel to stop attacking them and agree to come with them was a big achievement, but there were still many battles ahead of them.

And as it turned out, some of those problems were the ones they've never considered before.

"So, I guess we'll be needing a new clothes, then," Sam said haltingly as Castiel's socks slipped off from his feet and were left on the floor as he journeyed across the room. Castiel gazed down at them dispassionately and back up at Sam, not understanding why he looked so troubled for it.

"Yeah, no kidding," Dean grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. The only thing that Castiel was wearing now was an oversized white shirt that fell over his knees, and there was no way they could put him back on his former suit as he had shrunken more than a foot shorter. "You think we can take him to the Wal-Mart?"

"In this state? Dude, he doesn't even have shoes. They're gonna scream kidnapping the moment we set a foot in there."

Sam and Dean talked for awhile on that topic to get there minds off of how screwed up their life was, but reached the conclusion that they should buy one set of clothes based on the rough guess of Cas's size, make him change in the impala, then buy clothes that actually fit him later on. A part of Dean was surprised that this relatively non case related small talk was happening. Sam had remained decidedly 'professional' ever since the disaster with Gadreel and refrained from easy bickering. It seemed like the shock had Sam revert back to the decade long establisged habit. Dean wondered how long this would last, and decided not to bring this to Sam's attention as the tension was already high without bringing back past mistakes.

"Are you quite finished?" Castiel asked. Somehow, he had found thick, ancient looking books in that short period of time and had them tucked in his arms.

"What's that?" 

"I didn't have time for your bickering," Castiel said in a tone that Dean swore was passive agressive and not completely monotonous. "We need to find out what kind of spell the witch had used on me since it had not disappeared with her death. These are the spell books I found in the room. Have you searched the whole house yet?"

"No, we were kinda focused on ganking her."

"Of course," Castiel responded drily.

They swept the whole house, and came out with about dozens of books. As the smallest, yet physically strongest one in their unit, Castiel ended up carrying the most books to save them from making several trips (he looked at the brothers funnily when they tried to take his loads, as if to say 'you think this is heavy?'). However, he showed no interest in claiming back his old clothes, as burdened as he was. It fell to Dean to gather up Cas's clothes. He ignored a weird twinge in his chest as he saw the overcoat wrapped up in his arms. 

"Hey, Cas, tiel, where do you think you're going? Get in here!" Dean shouted as he saw the angel wandering away from the Impala.

Castiel paused and trudged back. However, the glare he shot to Dean clearly stated, _I'm warning you, don't think you can jerk me around, human_. Dean was thankful that the angel's arms were otherwise occupied to do anything much.

"Car?" Castiel asked in grudging curiosity.

"Yeah, a car," Dean said, motioning Castiel to dump the books in the trunk. "Wait, you don't know what a car is?"

"No."

"Seriously? What's the last thing you reme-," Dean stopped mid-sentence as he realized how useless that line of questioning would be. Cas was literally older than dirt and an angel to boot, which meant that there was a chance that Castiel would say something like, _I was fighting demons on the Lord's behalf_ or _I watched the first generation of platypus playing_ , which would mean bumfuck to Dean. So he amended, "Do you know how many years you're missing?"

Castiel cocked his head with a far away look, as if he was listening to the universe. And for all Dean knew, he was. "I believe- more than 3000 years."

"3000 years? That's, wow," Dean's brain short-circuited a little, and judging by Sam's expression, so was his. "Awesome."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, we're awesomely fucked up," Dean muttered. 

"Well, to go back to the topic," Sam cut in. "A car is a method of transport that human invented to travel long distance. In our case, it's gonna take about 5 hours to go back to our place."

Castiel tilted his head and opened his mouth, but frozed. A pained expression flickered across his face and disappeared, so fast that no one noticed. He set his shoulders straight. "How do we use this?"

-

All in all, their shopping trip went less dramatically than it could have gone, thanks to Sam who had the foresight to plead to Castiel not to say anything even if people approached him and asked questions. 

Not that it stopped them from getting fair share of weirded out stares. Castiel simply had the way of staring at people that made them falter when they tried to gush over his cuteness. No one even dared to pinch his cheeks. They stammered out an awkward praise or two and beat a hasty retreat. 

Dean got some kick out of that. 

Castiel ended up with a plain long sleeved t-shirt, a tan jacket, a pair of dark jeans, and sturdy boots, not that different from what Sam had initially thrown at him to change in the Impala. He had shown no interest in making his own choices, and just looked at them like they were the most inane creatures when they tried to present various options. The only input they got from him was that they should avoid any buttons since Castiel had unceremoniously ripped out the oversized shirt he had been wearing when he was told to change.

As the three of them walked out of the mall, it occurred to Dean that he had never felt the urge to put Castiel in some colorful t-shirts with funny characters. That had definitely crossed his mind at one point, he realized, when Cas had been human. He remembered thinking, watching Cas eating burritos and relaxing in the bunker, _man, wait 'till I show him all the dorky, nerdy stuffs_.

Shouldn't he have used this time to make up for that missed opportunity? But then again, when he imagined poking fun at this Castiel, all he could think of was that angel who had once threatened to send him back to Hell if he didn't show him some respect. Castiel had yet to resort to violence after their initial confrontation, but he reeked of indifference the way Cas hadn't been for a long time.

Dean got into the driver seat, and glanced at the angel sitting ramrod straight on his seat through the rearview mirror. Dean had once told Cas to never change after that nightmare in the alternate universe. 

It never occurred to him that undoing all the changes Cas went through over the years would be just as unsettling. He knew that the angel was unable to fly out now, but Castiel looked more remote than ever.

"Hey, Castiel?" Dean called out as an idea popped into his mind.

"Yes?"

"Do me a favor and grab something from the coat, would ya? Your former coat. There's gonna be a rectengular metaly stuff in the poket. Figured I should remind you to tale it before I forgot," Dean said as he half-gestured at the coat that he had put in the backseat defnitely not because of the bad memory associated with the trench coat in the trunk.

"What is this?" Castiel asked, having found the object in question.

"It's called a cell phone. It's a talking device, like, for long range."

Castiel frowned. "Why did I have this? A simple prayer would have sufficed."

 _Yeah, you mean the prayers you ignored for a whole year? And even with a phone, you're seriously hard to reach so don't worry,_ , the bitter part of Dean whispered, but guilt swiftly replaced it, because this time it had been Dean who had ignored Cas. He pushed Cas away when his friend was human and vulnerable. Cas himself had said that he had not wanted to bother Dean, so why was Dean about to bitch about it to someone who didn't even remember? "Just keep it in your pocket for now, okay? I'll explain it when we get to the bunker."

 _I'll never understand humanity,_ Castiel's expression said, but he dutifully put it in his pocket.

Dean ignored the weird look Sam shot in his direction and kept driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support! I'm definitely continuing :)


	3. Chapter 3

Kevin yawned loudly as he shuffled out of his room. 13 hours, he couldn't believe how long he had been asleep. Then again, that was what happened when you pull an all-nighter for four consecutive days. He couldn't help it, though. The Gadreel Incident freaked the hell out of him. Sure, he had known that the angels were not as good as he had once thought, but that was completely different from knowing that some angels were actually out to get you. Now, he wanted to reopen the gate of Heaven and get the angels off from here with the burning fervor he had once reserved for closing the gate of Hell. It was a bonus point that Metatron was behind all this. It would be cathartic as hell to give a big fuck you to the dick who called a hit on him. 

"Hey, Kevin," said Sam as he came down from the stairs with stacks of books in his arms.

"Hey. What's all that?"

"Oh, this? There has been... a bit of complication."

"Complication?" Kevin reiterated, knowing the Winchesters' talent in underestimation. Seriously, they were the ones who told him that this hunt wouldn't be that difficult. What did they stumble into this time?

Kevin looked up as another sets of heavy footprints followed Sam's descent. There was Dean, of course, also carrying buck loads of books. Surprisingly enough, there was another one following him down with armful of books.

A little kid.

"Dean, what-,"

"Kev, not now, let me just put this down, okay," Deam grunted.

Unhappy, Kevin crossed his arms. He would wait, but if Dean remained silent for more than five minutes, he was going to give him a piece of his mind. He was sick and tired of secrets and missing information that came to bite them in the ass. 

Dean spilled the books on the War Table as Sam had done, sighing in relief. He turned, picked up the rest of the books from the kid, and spilled them over as well. 

Kevin finally got a good look at the kid with the tower of books gone. Wild hair, big blue eyes. Cute kid, he decided. Who was he?

"Prophet," the kid said, expression suddenly turning blank. 

That was when all hell broke out. Suddenly, Sam and Dean was sailing across the room, ending up pinned against the wall. The kid's eyes were alight with calm fury, and fuck, fuck, fuck, he should have known. No normal kid would have been able to carry that amount of books. Damn his sleep addled, caffeine deprived brain for taking to long to log on. Why did Sam and Dean bring that kid here? Were they tricked?

He started to back out in what he hoped was an unobtrusive way. For some reason, the kid had left him free to move. Was he being underestimated? That stung a little, but his pride wasn't as important as his life. His eyes met Dean's across the room, and the man gave a little nod at his direction.

"Hey, asshole, what was that for?" Dean shouted loudly. As far as tactics went, it was a suicidal move to piss off an enemy who had overpowered you completely, but well, they were the Winchesters and Kevin surely could use some distraction.

He began to run as soon as he was out of sight.What was that? Angel, demon, or something else entirely? It was irritating to face an unknown, but he didn't have any time for research.

Angels, he decided, extrapolating from the recent attempt on his life. He searched his phone for the record of exorcism ritual just in case, and wrecked his brain. 

What killed the angels? Angel blade, of course, but there was no way he would win a hand to hand combat against an angel. Holy fire could trap an angel, but it was really difficult to draw a circle around them without being detected. He could try baiting the angel into already drawn circle, but he didn't seem so keen on a chase. What if the guy decided to kill him from a long distance?

A Molotov cocktail, a brilliant idea came to Kevin. A holy Molotov coctail, it would kill an angel, and also allow him to attack from a distance. Not to mention, hitting a target with a bottle would be easier than trying that with a blade.

He thanked his recent bout of justifiable paranoia and insomnia as a beer bottle, matches to lit on aromatic candles, and holy oil was all stashed in his room. He hastily assembled the necessary ingredients all together and ran to the War Room as silently as possible. 

He peered through the doorway and found the three of them still talking. Not that he could hear any of them over his thudding heart. He exhaled quietly to calm his nerve and threw the bottle as hard as he could. 

Unfortunately, the kid raised his left hand without looking back and halted the bottle mid air. It soon fell with a jarring clash, burning the floor withought a cause. When the kid lowered his hand, the fire was gone as well.

Feeling despair fill his heart but not ready to admjt defeat just yet, Kevin fumbled for his phone and pushed the play for the exorcism.

The kid cocked his head. "I'm no demon, prophet," he said over the latin chant.

"Kevin Tran," he snapped as he shut the audio off. If he was going to die, he wouldn't at least be called by the title he had never wanted in the first place. "So you an angel?"

"Yes," the angel acknowledged. "Kevin Tran, why did you try to throw holy fire at me?"

"What, is it a crime now, trying to defend myself?" Again, sassing your enemy was not a very good tactic, but it was better than just lying down.

The angel had the audacity to look puzzled. "Why would I attack you? Angels' job is to protect you."

"Really, tell that to the other guy who tried to kill me last week."

"Were you attacked?" The angel asked sharply. "That shouldn't have been allowed to happen. Where's Raphael? Where's the garrison? They should have escorted you to the desert to learn the Word safely."

For a moment, he thought the angel was jerking his chain, but his words triggered what Kevin had heard the a long time ago. Hadn't Castiel once told him that the garrison had the code to take the prophet to the desert? 

"You don't know what's been happening in these few years, do you?" He blurted out his realization.

The angel's eyes flickered down to the ground then back up, something like shame crossing his feature. "I have to admit that my memory is sparse. I would be grateful if you could tell me."

From the corner of his eyes, Kevin saw Sam trying to send him a message without speaking out loud. Dammit, he should have learned how to read lips for something like this.

"I don't wish to hear anything from you," the angel said as he turned back to address Sam and Dean. "I no longer trust you to tell me the whole truth."

Oh, so Sam hadn't been trying to be silent, but had been literally unable to make a sound. Kevin gulped in trepidition.

"Kevin Tran, where is Raphael and the garisson?" The angel looked at him with a laser like focus.

Fuck his life.

With Sam and Dean incapable of collaborating with him to make a plausible lie, all he was left with was the truth. The angel appeared patient for now, but he didn't know what the angel would do if he thought that he was lying. 

"I've only been a prophet for a few years so I don't know a lot," he licked his lips. God, he was parched. "But from what I heard, all the archangels are dead. And as for the garrison, I don't know what happened to them, but I don't think they're very interested in keeping me safe right now. After the angels fell-"

"What do you mean fell?" The angel asked, and no mistake, there was a look of horror on his face. 

Did he just managed to traumatize an angel? He felt a bit guilty, but the angel was the one who demanded the truth with a hostage situation.

"There's this guy, Metatron. He performed some kid of spell. Heaven is now shut and all the angels were cast out. So the angels, they're not doing so great I heard that they're fighting each other."

"I see," the angel whispered quietly, and now he appeared downright miserable. It didn't help that he looked like a kid. Kevin felt like he had just kicked a puppy. "I-, Kevin Tran, I know it's my job to protect you, but- if my brethren are in that much problem, I wish to help them. Would you allow me to leave my post for awhile?"

Kevin's brain caught up with what the angel was saying, and he blinked incrdulousky. Was the guy seriously asking permission to leave him alone?

"Yeah, yeah, sure, you can go. I'll be fine," Kevin replied, not believing his luck.

"Thank you," the angel said with obvious relief. He turned his head toward the brothers who were frozen and mute on the wall despite their struggle. "Do you trust them?"

Did he? 

"Yeah," Kevin answered after a few moments. He was still not over the Gadreel business, but Sam hadn't known that he was being possessed. As for Dean, while Kevin was still pissed at him for doing something stupid, well, Kevin had come this close to setting Crowley free for his mom. The desperation behind the act, at least he could acknowledge that. Besides, he didn't want to get Sam and Dean killed over something they were already feeling shitty for.

"Good," the angel nodded. "I'll release them once I leave," he said and proceeded to disappear up the stairs.

Kevin stood attentively until he could hear a soft thud. At the same time, Sam and Dean fell to the ground, finally released from their position. He felt boneless with relief.

"God damn it, Kevin, why did you let him fucking leave?" Dean yelled, shattering his hard-earned relief. The man stuggled to stand up and ran toward the stairs.

"What the-" Kevin muttered, bewildered, then angry. "What's wrong with you? I saved your life, you ungrateful ass!" he shot his arm forward as he saw Sam trying to chase after his brother, which would have left him alone with no explanation. "Don't you dare. What's going on?"

"Kevin-"

"Explain!"

"That was Cas."

"What?"

"The kid angel, he's Castiel. Without about 3000 years of memory. Look, let's stop Dean from doing something stupid first, okay?"

_Bang!_

Both of their heads shot up at the sharp noise. They shared a look, and began to run up the stairs. At the top, they found Dean kicking at the door in impotent fury.

_Bang!_

Dean snarled. "That son of a bitch locked us in!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so apparently, making Cas and Kevin meet each other was a very explosive choice because they somehow derailed the whole plotline I had in mind before I wrote their meeting? Please leave me some reviews so I can know what you guys are thinking x) Hope you enjoyed the story!


	4. Chapter 4

As Castiel climbed up the stairs which led to outside, two thoughts belatedly occurred to him: 

1\. He was still unable to fly. 

2\. What could he do anyway if he were to go out?

This made him falter for a second. Castiel considered turning back, grabbing the many spell books they had carried out, and searching for answers for how long. Would he be more of a help if he stayed with the prophet, make sure that the prophet would find a way to open Heaven again permanently? But the prophet was the one with the Word, and Castiel wasn't sure he would be able to keep the prophet safe alone. 

Why did Metatron cast all the angels out? Why were the angels fighting each other if they knew the Scribe was to be blamed? How come they were not here, protecting the prophet who knew the Word?

There must be those who aligned themselves with Metatron, he realized with a sinking feeling. The prophet must have hidden himself from all angels because he didn't know who to trust. His deep mistrust against their kind showed. Was the prophet left unprotected the whole time? How could all the archangles be dead? 

He breathed out slowly, even though he had no reason to. He wasn't sure he was supposed to... feel, this acutely. He should have asked for more information, but he couldn't bear to sit still contemplate about his brothers fate anylonger. He needed to move. 

In the end, Castiel decided to weld the door shut to buy himself some time. He did promise to let the humans go, but he didn't promise that he would let them chase him. For some reason, the humans appeared to have fixated on him. He didn't know them well, but even the brief stay with them was enough to show him that they would track him down the moment he gave them back their mobility. Irritatingly enough, their 'car', while confining, would give them better chance to catch him, as he was now forced to travel on foot.

He flexed his hand. The witch's curse was vexing, but seemed to have left his ability still intact except for that of flying. He wondered if this general feeling of wrongness was also the effect of the curse. He could feel it in his grace, in his vessel, and in the lack of soul of the vessel. No matter. He wouldn't let it get in the way. He could do this.

 _Castiel, you need to tone down on your impulsive streak,_ he could practically hear Balthazar sighing. 

Instant protest welled up inside him, but he soon deflated. The sad thing was that he knew. He tried to justify it, but ultimately, he had let his emotion to sway him, to storm out like a petulant child. It didn't matter that getting out seemed to be a right course of action now. He was being unruly and undisciplined when he needed to be tactical and smart. He required guidance.

_Bang!_

Castiel startled out of his thought.

Right, humans. If he idled any longer, things would get more complicated. He had to move.

He turned, leaving the furious rattling of the metal behind.

-

After letting out an inarticulate sound of frustration, Dean stomped down the stairs, practically radiating frustration and fury. He had kicked, and later shot at the door to make it open, but the Men of Letters had the unfortunate foresight to make it extremely sturdy.

Sam stared after his brother's blazing trail, feeling an odd combination of bewildered, worried, and exasperated.  
"So, I'm guessing Dean's gonna handle the door situation, right?" Kevin commented with a deadpan expression.

"Yeah, seems like," Sam rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish on his brothers behalf.

"Then come on," said Kevin as he led the way downstair. He pointed an accusatory finger at Sam. "And you better start making coffee and give me a detailed explanation. Did you know that you made me handle this without any caffeine?"

Sam realized how screwed his priority was when caffeine deprivation seemed worse than getting attacked by an angel. "Sure. Black, two sugars, right?"

"Make that three."

Coffee made to the resident prophet's satisfaction, Sam pushed the cup to his direction. After pouring one for himself, he sat down on the table as well. With sudden spike of adrenaline gone, Kevin's dark bruises under his eyes looked more prominent than ever before. Feeling guilty, he raked his hair back.

"Sorry, man, didn't mean to bring any drama home."

"Please," Kevin snorted. "You guys do nothing but bringing drama home."

Sam twitched, reminded of how he brought Gadreel here without meaning to. Kevin must have noticed it, too, judging by his grimace.

"I'm not blaming you," Kevin said, frowning. "I'd be lying if I said I was not bitter at all, but mostly, I'm okay. Besides, you chased him off, right? He's not gonna come back with an insane mission to redeem himself by being Metatron's hitman again?"

"No, no, I think I got my point acrossed," Sam rubbed at his face. "Still, sorry for the mess."

"Not your fault that I'm a prophet, don't apologize for everything." Kevin shrugged, then suddely became dead serious. "But really, you guys need to learn to warn a guy. Not just when you need information from me. Give me like 10 words texts, 'Kevine, angel incoming, get inside the ward' or something. I'm not gonna be so pissed if I can at least brace myself."

Sam opened his mouth, then closed. He smiled wryly. "Guess it's not just Dean who still has the 'two of us against the world' mentality. Sorry. We're not used to the fact that there are people around us at all."

"Well, get used to it soon," Kevin sipped his coffee. "You'll be amazed at what I can do when I have time to prepare properly."

Sam grinned. "You're not bad at improvisation, either. Where did you get the Molotov idea?"

"Eh, desperate times," Kevin waved it off, looking proud of himself as he leaned against the chair.

Sam laughed, relaxing a bit. He cocked his head, and thought that this story would be as good an opening as ever. "You know, Cas once did it, too."

"Oh, really."

"Yeah, threw it at Michael."

"Huh," Kevin said, sounding impressed. "So, that kid was really Cas? How did you meet him anyway? I thought he was staying away, flying low from the Heavenly radar?"

"Yeah, that was the plan, but I guess he couldn't stay away from hunting life completely, either. We met during the case. He tried to leave, but we didn't let him."

They had a lot to hash out, especially in light of the Gadreel situation. Sam had once had to claim an urgent need for dinner run as he figured Cas would have more to talk about with Dean. 'I'm sorry I made you leave when you had nothing because of my brother' had not been the talk that Sam wished to be a part of for long. He still didn't know if they talked at all, but they'd seemed more at ease with each other after he had returned.

"We tracked down the witch's house," Sam continued. "We split up, Dean and Cas to find the witch, and me to find the cursed object. I finished my job, and was trying to team up with Dean again when I heard a scream," he paused. "I thought it was Dean's, but in retrospect, I think it was Cas. Anyway, when I reached the room, Cas had shrunk into a kid and was attacking Dean since he had no idea who he was."

Kevin's eyes flickered to the spot where Sam and Dean had been pinned. "Wow, he makes one agressive kid."

"He was definitely shoot first, ask question later type," Sam tapped his fingers against the cup. "But he did listen when we tried to explain. He didn't even talk with anybody when we had to buy him new clothes because we asked him not to."

Kevin looked thoughtful. "Then what did you explain to him to make him so angry? He even took away your voice." 

Sam winced. "Well, at first, he was freaking out about you being here instead of in the desert, and the talk kind of desolved into angels being locked out of Heaven. He may have gotten the impression that the angels were safely locked _in_ the Heaven from our previous conversation."

"Ah- yeah, that certainly has the shock value."

"I just," Sam sighed. "He was feeling so guilty about the Heaven situation. We'd killed the witch, you know, and brought all her spell books," Sam gestured at the books they'd set aside to make room for coffe. "I thought we'd get the answer soon and figured, why hurt him fresh when he'd get back his memory soon anyway?"

Kevin lifted one eyebrow. "Well meaning lies not working very well?"

Sam's eyes drifted toward where Dean had disappeared to. Him and his brother had been distant these days. There had been an initial lashing, but after that, Sam had emotionally removed himself from Dean. In a sense, it was lucky they had stumbled into Cas in their first case together because it made both of them distracted with seetting the record straight with their old friend. As much as Sam wanted to talk his problem out loud, he couldn't yet do that with Dean. He had been boiling with so much betrayal that he couldn't trust himself to speak rationally. He knew that his silence was hurting Dean, but he knew that he would hurt him more if he spoke too soon. He thought he was going that place, though. He just have to figure out how to say 'I understand your intention but what you did was really fucked up' in a way that Dean wouldn't interpret as 'You're fucked up.'

"Yeah," Sam replied, heavy with many thoughts.

Their conversation came to a halt as Dean finally emerged to the surface. He had a triumphant expression on his face, and his stride was long and purposeful. He had a welder in his hand and a mask perched on his head with the visor flipped.

Sam had to applaud at Dean's determination. He didn't even know where his brother found that thing.

"Dude, are you planning to take the door down?" Kevin asked incredulously.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Dean shrugged. "It's not like I know if the door is mojoed."

Kevin look at the welder, and the door, and back at the welder.

"Do you know how to get a new door if you do that? It's already kinda chilly here with a door."

Dean narrowed his eyes in dissatisfaction, but crossed his arms as he conceded.

Kebin frowned. "Hey, wait a sec. Can't we like, go out through the garage? It's not like there's no other way out, right?"

There was absolue silent after that statement.

The three of them all stood, realization washing over them. Sam kind of felt stupid himself, as he had also been too swept by the event to consider anything else.

"Guess we should have thought of that first, huh?" Sam said, grinning at Dean in embarrassment. "I was just shocked to be locked down in our own place."

Dean started for a second, but it did manage to snap him out of a mortified stupor. 

"Told you, I'm amazing," Kevin said, smiling cheekily.

"Oh, yes," Dean recovered enough to grumble good naturedly. He flipped his visor down. "You just made me miss my chance to play with fire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this hadn't come off too occ;; Please R&R :)


	5. Chapter 5

At first, Castiel had not turned on the Heavenly Line because he had thought that all his brothers and sisters were stuck in the other side of the gate. His was already turned off for some reason, and he saw no reason to torment himself further with the news of his brethren when he couldn't even join them if they were in trouble. Now he knew it to be false, but he was still wary of opening himself up fully. Who knew how many were following Metatron? 

Still, Castiel needed to reach out to someone. He couldn't proceed alone. He needed guidance. After a bit of contemplation, he decided to selectively contact those he could trust.

 _Anael_ , he reached toward his superior. He waited for her calm, commanding voice, but nothing came. He wrinkled his brow. He tried again. 

_Balthazar, it's me, where are you?_ He concentrated hard so that he could catch even the softest sigh. The connection still remained elusive. 

_Rachel, Uriel, Inias, Hester, Ezekiel, Samandriel_ , he reached out with growing desperation.

No answer. Castiel suddenly felt very small and alone. What was happening? He was only missing 3000 years of memory. Surely, he must have been working with them all along before the accident. Why were they refusing his call?

They couldn't be all dead, could they?

Surprisingly, Castiel found that moving his vessel helped him not to spiral into useless speculation. He set a brisk pace, contemplating ways to remedy the situation. It seemed like the best course of action was to search the angels against Metatron and bring them around the bunker to protect the prophet. But how-

_Honk, honk!_

Castiel turned at the noise. It was a car, a different one from the one he had ridden recently. It had silvery blue color, and looked much more compact. The glass pane rolled down, and revealed a young woman of Asian origin. Her hair gradiated from hot pink to blonde, which Castiel suspected was not natural. 

"Hey, kid. I just got worried because you were running alone here. Where are your parents?"

Castiel tilted his head. He couldn't understand the connection between her words. Nonetheless, he answered, "if you're talking about Father, I believe he's in Heaven, although I've not met him in person." 

The woman made an odd face, as if she had been struck. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just, it's dangerous to be alone, you know? You're not here with any adults?"

"No."

"Oh," she paused, chewing her lips. "So where were you going?"

"I've yet to decide exact destination," Castiel confessed. 

"Wow, you know a lot of big words for your age," she blinked, astonished. "And I wasn't trying to be condescending, sorry," she then shook hear head, looking troubled again. "You're not going back home?"

"That option is currently unavailable."

"Okay. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"You can pray to the angels," said Castiel after awhile, thinking that someone might come down to help. That would be the angel he could seek guidance from. He doubted anyone from Metatron's side would have much interest in aiding anyone in need.

She sighed. Instead of praying, she looked around the empty road. "Look, I can't really leave you here in good conscience. Can I at least drop you by the nearest police station?"

Castiel frowned. "Why do you wish to drop me?"

"What?" The woman made a confused sound. "I just meant that maybe the police might be able to help you. I can take you there."

"Oh," Castiel said. "You were offering me to ride the car."

"Yeah, what do you think?"

Castiel pondered, and came to the conclusion that this was as good an option as any. He could search for his siblings after he had put enough distance between him and the bunker. He did not wish to be hassled by humans.

"I accept your offer, thank you."

The woman smiled. "No problem."

-

"So Dean, how were you planning on finding Cas?" Kevin asked after he stopped grinning like a smug cat. "I'm guessing you had a plan there besides wrecking the door."

Dean shrugged. "Easy, we just had to tract down his phone."

Kevin raised his brows. "He has a phone?"

"Yeah, his old phone."

"After going through the complete wardrobe change?"

"Yeah," Dean responded shortly. He didn't want to elaborate on his reason. _That you're a one clingy bastard, right?_ teased the dark voice in his head.

"Huh," Kevin said as he looked down at his empty cup. He stood up to get a second dose of caffeine. "Well, at least we're prepared."

Yeah, good practice, how lucky I knew he would leave sooner or later and it turned out to be sooner, Dean swallowed back his retort. 

"So how do we convince him to come back?"

"What?" Dean's head snapped up at Sam's question.

"Uh, he was super pissed at us, if you remember. And he's an angel. We can't force him to go anywhere he doesn't want to be."

Dean drummed his fingers on his knees. "We can try just summoning his ass."

"Of course, angels love it when they're summoned against their will."

Dean raked his hand through his hair. He hadn't thought about that deeply. He had been focused on hauling the angel's ass back home. There was this sick sense of urgency in his stomach. It was like Purgatory all over again. Except the situation was much worse than that. At least at that time Cas knew he was being targeted. Now this Cas in a kid's body didn't even know who were gunning for him. He could practically see it: Cas being happy as hell to see his family, running to them heedless of any danger, the look of betrayal in his eyes as he watched them piercing his heart with the blade, the burnt of wings-

"We'll say that the prophet needs him," Dean said, forcing himself to snap out of his morbid scenario.

"Even though I refused his offer like 10 minutes ago?" Kevin looked up from his cup. 

"What, who said you can't change your mind?" 

"No one. Just hope that Cas'll take that as a good enough explanation."

"He will," Dean spoke with a conviction he lacked. 

"I'll get the tracking going," said Sam helpfully. 

Dean watched his brother go. He felt oddly disoriented. _Stop trying to take care of me! We can't go on like this. Let's, let's just pretend we're partners and not brothers for the moment, okay? Give me some space,_ Sam had said after the initial Gadreel fallout. Hurt but guilty, Dean had tried to do what Sam had wanted, but there were these moments- Sam being helpful, Sam throwing a joke, Sam coming to his rescue. It gave him a whiplash, as Sam managed to turn on his professional demeanor after the moments passed. 

He noticed these moments cropping up more frequently after they had stumbled upon Cas on the case, but Dean didn't known if this was because Sam was beginning to forgive him or because he was slipping to their old acts to put Cas at ease af first and later to show a united force against amnesiac Cas. 

He wondered when this period of brotherlyness would pass.

"Okay, so I got the signal," Sam said. His eyebrows arched high then formed a frown. "And it looks like he's moving in a car."

"What, how?"

"I don't know, free riding, hitchhiking? But he can't possibly walk this fast."

"Fuck," Dean swore. "Alright, let's go, we'll watch where he's going as we go."

"Uh, no."

"Why?" Dean snapped, nerve strung high. Shit, he shouldn't have wasted so much time trying to open the goddamn door that they didn't need to open anyway. Why had he been so stupid?

Sam pulled the familiar bitch face. "Because I need wi-fi to keep this tracking app going and we're not going to get any wi-fi once we leave the bunker."

"What," Dean was stumped for a second. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Dean. You can't magically pull wi-fi out of thin air, especially around Lebanon."

"Really, that's not what you've been doing?"

"I can monitor from here," Kevin piped in. "I can track both Castiel's and your phone and direct you on the phone, how's that?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. Dean nodded. "Yeah, you do that."

-

The woman came out, opened the car door and gestured at him to come in. Castiel clambered up. 

"Seat belt, Mister, I'm not going to get you killed."

He stared at her blankly. She quirked a wry smile, reached above his head, and strapped him with black belt. Castiel tugged at it for a moment, but left it alone in resignation. The car became all the more confining. How did the humans stand this? Perhaps humans took comfort in a small space like ferrets did. The woman also proceeded to tie herself down.

"So can I ask for your name?"

"Castiel."

"Oh, cool, my name's Gaya. Hey, do you mind if I give a quick call to my friend?"

Castiel shook his head. She took a small rectengular device from her pocket -it was called cell phone, wasn't it - fiddled with it for a moment, and put it next to her ear. He watched her curiously and looked down at the forgotten lump in his pocket.

"Hey, Nica," she talked to the empty air.

"Hello, Gaya," he heard another voice coming through the cell phone. So that was how it worked, he thought to himself. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah, kind of. I think I might be slightly late."

"Are you hurt?" The voice asked sharply.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just found a kid on the road, and I have to stop by the police station."

"Oh. So we're still meeting in Lebanon?"

"Yeah, I'm like, 10 minutes away from our usual place. I just wanted to tell you because I don't know how long this kind of thing takes."

"Then I'll wait for you in the station."

"Oh, would you? Thanks. See you soon."

"See you."

Gaya chattered on for the rest of the journey. She tried to engage him in a conversation at first, but quickly changed her approach after he kept giving a monosyllabic reply. She talked to him about how they were going to meet her friend, Veronica. (She kept calling her Nica after the initial introduction. Castiel wondered why she felt the need to shorten the name. There were some angels who had more than 16 syllables in their names yet no one shortened them.) She talked about how they met and how they decided to come to Lebanon of all places. She said that it had been just a throwaway line from her at start, 'Hey, why don't we meet in the middle instead of someone driving all the way to one place?' and that somehow it had started to develop into a tradition between the two of them (Only three times, but still). It wasn't like they needed much entertainment between the two of them, she said, as they were always busy just talking to each other. Castiel nodded along and felt content to keep quiet and let the sound wash over him. It filled the space left by his brothers' silence.

"Here we are," said Gaya as she stopped her car. She looked around her and visibly brightened as her gaze fixed on one point. "Oh, Nica's already here, come on."

She helped him get out of the belt. Castiel opened the door and slumped bit as he was once again free in the open space. He pushed the door back, feeling a little vindicated as it put a barrier between him and that tiny little space.

"Castiel."

He whirled into a denfensive position as he heard his name being uttered by a new voice. Wide eyed, Gaya looked between him and the other woman. The woman was tall with dark skin, and her hair pulled back into a pony tail.

But all Castiel could see was a giant set of tattered wings.

"Rebecca," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist poking fun at Sam's magical wi-fi. X) Hope you enjoyed the story, please let me know if there's anything you liked! This story is growing in an unexpected way and I could use some help :)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a de-aged!Cas fic where Cas isn't a fluffy, cute baby angel. (There might be some fluff, but it's not going to be a major thing in the story)


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